Dance with the Devil
by Hot Scandal
Summary: He was given a second chance at life. He never expected to fall in love; especially with the person that he did. TR/HP, TR/AP


**Disclaimer: All rights belong to JKR**

**Warnings: Male x Male**

**Summary: He's given a second chance at life. He doesn't expect to fall in love. **

**Pairings: Definitely Tom/Albus. There may be Tom/Harry and Al/Scorpius. I'm not sure yet.**

**DANCE WITH THE DEVIL**

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**Chapter One**

_"It has been nearly seventeen years," the voice, so distant and yet so close, drifted through the black void that had been his Hell for eons it seemed. "And we have heard your pleas. We have heard your cries. And we feel that it is time for you to redeem yourself of your past misdeeds. You were not always evil, Tom Riddle."_

_He could have laughed at that. From the time he was a small child he knew he was different, that he wasn't quite like the children that he was around in the orphanage. He knew that that he was no saint but perhaps, once a very, very, long time ago, he'd been as close to innocent as a damned soul could be. "Yes, we agree with you. That is why we have taken the liberty to have you regain your mortal form. No, not the form of Lord Voldemort, the Murderer. But of Tom Riddle, the confused and tortured young man that chose the wrong path in life."_

_"I don't understand. Why would you allow me, the most hated and most powerful Dark Lord to have ever existed, to return to the land of living? Aren't you afraid that I might raise another Army and begin anew my quest to destroy the world of filth?"_

_"We have considered all the possibilities. As such we have concluded that you will not be given the amount of power that you had attained. You will be a normal fifteen year old boy. You will be as you once were nearly eight decades ago. And we have decided that you will have all of your memories. Perhaps you will be able to repent for your sins, especially against those that you personally wronged."_

_"And what if I resist? What if take your little plan and turn it into something that I can use?"_

_"You would be wise not to," there was a certain amount of warning threats in that dulcet voice that had Voldemort-no __**Tom Riddle-**__heeding. "Your name will to be your own discretion. You may use your given name or simply choose one of your liking. Regardless of which, your background will be impeccably flawless. You are an intelligent man and as such we believe that you will take this opportunity and save your soul from a lifetime of __**this**_."

"_How can you have faith in me? I committed acts of genocide and delved into dark magics that are forbidden. I don't deserve this."_

_"When you arrive, you will be in a place that is familiar to you but I will give you some advice. Your actually identity must remain anonymous. No one must know that you are in fact the man that once was Lord Voldemort. There would be mass hysteria and panic spreading throughout a world that has adjusted to life before Voldemort's reign of terror."_

_"I understand."_

_"I believe in you and because of that, should you fail or should you stray from this new path, the consequences will be most unfortunate."_

_And then, there was nothing…_

* * *

Not much had changed since he'd last seen these walls, he concluded, as he glanced around himself. Well, unless he discounted that he'd nearly had Hogwarts in ruin. That brought a wan smile to his handsome face. He hadn't loathed Hogwarts; it had been the first place that he'd called home. He supposed that as Lord Voldemort he hadn't taken any trips down memory lane or else he wouldn't have been so careless. After all it was within these walls that he'd first recruited his Death Eaters and made such grandiose plans, where he'd first learned that he wasn't a freak and that he was normal, and most importantly where he'd died; a feat that he thought had been impossible. A feat that had been accomplished by a mere child.

Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. The bane of Voldemort's existence. Tom chuckled to himself as passed through another corridor. How could he have been so self-assured that he hadn't properly prepared himself for the final battle against Potter? Surely, he must have known that Potter was a wizard to be reckoned with, that Potter was in some essences just an extension of Tom himself. But no, he'd never fully delved into the exact intricacies that connected him and Harry Potter. And that had been Voldemort's down fall in the end.

Tom had always been a cocky bastard; he wasn't too proud to admit. Dying and spending years in nothing but darkness had given him _plenty_ of time to think about his own shortcomings and mistakes. He could even confess that he was remorseful for his actions-to some degree. But his own arrogance had been his Achille's Heel. If he'd only taken the time to understand that bond between himself and Potter. If only…the two saddest words to exist. For they only spoke of regrets and of the past.

Tom meandered through another hall, descending a stair case that led to the Great Hall. He could have walked the castle blind-folded. He'd spent many sleepless nights exploring the school's passageways and secret chambers. He caught his reflection in one of the suits of armor, eyebrows lifting nearly to his hair-line as he took in his appearance. This was not the man that he remembered last seeing. Merlin, this was only a boy!

Disheveled black hair that fell in soft waves to the nape of his neck had once caused the girls to follow him around like bloodhounds after game. And if it wasn't his hair, then it was his eyes. Tom could barely recall when his eyes had been so green, so vibrant, and so full of life. The scarlet irises and slitted pupils had been prevalent for too long. And his skin. Gods, when it had ever been _not_ scarred? Not wrinkly? Not like parchment-paper? The flesh was naturally olive hued and unblemished. His body was fit; tall with broad shoulders and firm muscles. He was whole and completely pure of the transformations that had come from tampering with the Horcruxes.

Having never been a nervous man, Tom opened the doors to the Great Hall, taking in the House tables. He immediately glanced at his robes and noted with immense relief that the Slytherin crest was emblazoned on his chest. At least he hadn't been denied that rather trivial but important part of himself. No one could refute that he was Salazzar's Slytherin's heir. Slytherin had always been his rightful home but he wondered… How much had changed since his death? Had the House rivalries been diminished? Were pure-bloods now on the minority?

He recognized none of the faces; there were no resemblances of former Death Eater's in this vastly different crowd. Here and there he thought he might have spied a glimpse of a certain parental influences. Even the teacher's table was oddly vacant of wizards he had once known and fought against. All save Minerva McGonagall sitting in the middle of the professors; Headmistress. _That_ didn't come as much of a shock. The little book worm was suited for that position and unlike Dumbledore, she would have had the strictness that was necessary for such a title.

He frowned, thinking that Severus Snape had once been at that very table. Severus. He shook his head, ignoring the sudden and not unexpected rush of sorrow that permeated his heart-a heart that had once been completely frozen to all emotion. Severus had to come to him as teenager and he'd been interested in Snape's potion skills. Tom knew now that Severus had always been a double agent. The signs were there but like usual, he'd chosen to ignore it because he had been under the impression that he was invisible and that all of his subjects were loyal to him. How wrong he'd been. And how he lamented killing Severus.

But his death was just another in the long string of murders that he'd partook in. Only a few were more prominent then the rest. Lily and James Potter. The whole reason that they'd been killed had been because of a prophecy. And that Lily's _love_ had protected her baby causing about the first end of his supremacy. It was ironic that that baby had been the reason for his permanent death in the end. Frank and Alice Longbottom. Albus Dumbledore. His grandparents. That girl in the Chamber of Secrets. His father…the first life he ever took. And there were hundreds of others that were the results of his own magic and from his Death Eaters through his orders. His hands were stained with blood that could never be cleansed.

Walking towards the Slytherin table, he slid in next to a surly looking boy that was tearing apart a Chocolate Frog with a zeal that vaguely disturbed Tom. He couldn't remember when he'd been _that_ young. He ignored whispers behind hands and unashamed pointing in his direction from those that had noticed his entrance. He supposed it hadn't altered that much from eighty years ago; he could still cause the girls to launch into an uproar because of his aesthetics. He was faintly shocked to see a few boys were also ogling him like lecherous old men. Now _that_ was a new one. Apparently this day and age was much more lenient with queers.

"You walk in here and sit yourself at our table and don't even introduce yourself? That's kind of harsh even for a Slytherin," a voice snapped Tom from his self imposed solitude to gaze into pale blue eyes. He almost lost his composure when actually _looked_ at the boy. Whisper soft blonde hair was neatly coifed and highlighted the Grecian bone structure of his immaculate, alabaster face. With a slender build and a small frame; there was no doubting this was a Malfoy. "Scorpius Malfoy."

"Thomas Black," he said, nearly cringing at his voice. At least he'd already hit puberty but that voice was hardly the deep, grating baritone that he had as an adult. No, this voice reminded him exactly why he'd hated adolescence. Being stuck between a man and a boy was hardly attractive.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Tom," Scorpius grinned, beckoning Tom to follow him towards another part of the table. Tom resisted the urge to smirk as a couple of anxious looking first years scurried out of the way. Even this Malfoy was a prince among peasants. He wondered if that constant would ever change. "Lily, it isn't polite to stare," Scorpius reprimanded a petite girl that may have been fourth year.

"I thought you were hot but I think he takes your place!" Lily giggled, hiding her face from behind a veil of strawberry-blonde curls, as her entire face turned scarlet.

Scorpius glowered at the girl, scowling at couple of other witches that were fanning themselves with their hands, waving at Tom as he-stupidly-looked in their direction. A pretty blonde winked at him and blew him a kiss that floated through the air. Scorpius plucked the small, red heart from the air. It instantly vanished. Tom was grateful. "Girls. Honestly. You'd think you were a piece of steak."

"You're just jealous because you've been dethroned as the Most Shag-able Bloke in Hogwarts. All hail the new king," another boy laughed, mock bowing towards Tom. When he rose, Tom's heart paused in his chest and for several seconds, he thought he might have died again. Chestnut brown hair, that seemed to defy the laws of gravity, was haphazardly styled. Bronzed skin was stretched across a lithe, muscular body that practically screamed Quidditch player. But it was those eyes. Gods. Those eyes would give him nightmares. Emerald green eyes were flecked with speckles of amber around the pupils.

"Very funny, Albus," Scorpius's glare could have melted glaciers.

"I'm Albus Potter."

"Thomas Black," he said for the second time, accepting the extended hand thrust in front of him. Potter. Well, that certainly explained the startling resemblance towards Harry Potter. The boy was obviously a son of the hero. Tom's hand itched to grab his wand, itched to just destroy the boy and in doing so have his revenge against Potter. But he couldn't. And it wasn't just because of the god's warnings but there was a small part of himself that actually _wanted_ a clean slate in this new life.

"Are you from the Noble House of Black?" Albus asked, arching a brow.

"No. Should I be?"

Albus chuckled. "I guess everyone with a Black surname isn't related to them. It's kind of funny that all the Blacks I've heard about except for two have been in Slytherin."

"That's strange," Scorpius said, leaning over his friend and whispering conspiratorially to Tom, "I heard the same thing about Potters. Albus was the first Potter to ever be in Slytherin. And then little Lily Potter came along and made her parents extra proud," he grinned at her cheekily, dodging a massive cupcake that Lily threw at him.

Two Potters in Slytherin? Tom found that amusing. Was Harry ashamed of his children because of the Sorting Hat's placement of them? No, Harry would have been understanding. He probably had a long winded speech about House equality. Tom snorted, taking a cautious sip of pumpkin juice. That would be just like that annoying do-gooder. He probably sewed House Elves tiny bonnets and socks on his down time too.

He peered at Lily who was having a miniature food fight with Scorpius. She was actually a very attractive girl. Strawberry-blonde ringlets framed a cherubic face that was endearingly young because of the freckles strewn across her nose and cheeks. The midnight blue of her eyes were more prominent because of her ivory skin. Tom chuckled to himself. He could have probably lifted her with one hand she was so small. Ducking to avoid a slice of pie, he found himself shoulder to shoulder with Albus. "Do they often do this?" he queried, motioning towards the two Slytherins.

Albus rolled his eyes. "At least twice a week. Come on, let's sneak out while we can," he grinned, heading towards a side door a few meters from the Slytherin table. "They won't even notice we're gone until McGonagall gives them detention. Before I wizened up Scorpius would blame me for starting it. And since McGonagall doesn't want to give preferential treatment towards me because of my Dad, she usually believed him."

"That's unfair," Tom commented, closing the door behind him. The corridor was dimly lit by a few wall sconces and completely empty. This would have been the perfect chance to commit the perfect crime of vengeance. He could kill the boy and disappear… Why, oh, why had he developed a conscious? He leaned against the wall and folded his arms in front of him, not positive on how to begin a conversation with the son of the man that had killed him. He knew that the some higher power was laughing at his predicament.

"So, where are you from? Did you transfer from another school?" Albus asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Something like that," Tom drawled lazily.

"Yeah, I guess I'm being too personal. I'll show you to the Slytherin tower."

Tom barely listened to Albus prattling about Hogwarts as he watched Albus closely. The boy was constantly gesticulating with his hands and his face concealed nothing. His other worldly eyes were expressive and honest. It was like reading an open book written in large letters with pictures. It was a very un-Slytherin like trait. But, Tom decided, he liked to listen to Albus's gentle voice.

* * *

**That's all for now. I have the second chapter nearly completed and it's in Al's POV.**

**PLease review, it makes me happy. And happiness makes me bake cookies. :P**

**Cheerio!**

**Evie**


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